


too slow

by Rag



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Beating, Child Abuse, Drabble, Gen, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 21:21:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12093678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rag/pseuds/Rag
Summary: strife, roof, now





	too slow

He didn’t sleep enough the night before. He hardly slept at all. Because Bro was pulling some shit. Slamming shit around most of the night, which kept fucking waking Dave up. He understood the house rules. Dave had to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice, day or night. He could put bells on his doors so that he would hear if they opened while he was sleeping, and that would wake him up, but it was never enough to really feel safe. What if he came in through the window instead? He wouldn’t hear the bell. He wouldn’t hear anything. He’d be sleeping, and then the window would shatter and he’d have a blade at his throat and a knee in his stomach. Add to that this new, fun game - slamming shit around in the kitchen every hour or so, throughout the night. That’s why Dave is off his game. That’s why this is going so fucking badly. Training.

He’s covered in sweat as the sun beats down on him. He wipes a trail of blood that threatens to maybe leak into his eyes. No, he needs his full vision for this. He needs all his senses to be at their peak, so maybe they can make up for the crushing exhaustion.

Bro’s already knocked him down three times today.  He’s holding nothing back (or maybe he is, maybe Dave is just that weak). Dave is aching all over from the pushes and the hits to his arms, chest, stomach, legs. One particularly bad fall put a crick in his back. Concrete is a bitch to land on, and it’s not like Dave has any fat to cushion the fall from grinding his skin and bones.

He sees an opening and manages to get one good hit to Bro’s side. And then Bro smiles, and he realizes he’s been played. Fuck, of course he has, Bro was just luring him closer.

“Too slow.”

Bro kicks Dave’s legs out from under him and Dave falls on his ass, jarring pain sparkling through his tailbone, but there’s no time to think about that. His brain is screaming at him to get up, get up, right now. He tries to get back up but Bro kicks him square in the side, harder than he’s ever kicked him before. The pain is blindingly intense. Dave withdraws into a little ball on the ground and tries to breathe.

It’s too fucking much today, he realizes. Cold dread fills him up like he’s been dunked in an ice bath. No, he can’t give up. He knows what happens when he gives up. He can’t. _Come on, Dave. You can do this._

“Come on. Get up.”

Dave tries. He lifts his hand out to brace himself and Bro kicks him hard in the chest. He gasps and tries to center himself.

“Slow. Way too slow. You’re not gonna make out there if this is all you got.”

Dave knows better than to ask it to stop. There are no time outs in life. He has to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice. He shuts the pain processing part of his brain down somehow and rolls himself far enough away that he can get up.

Bro just stares at him. Before Dave has time to process it, he flash steps over to him and pushes him hard. Dave is too off-center to stop it. It’s more than he can handle to just fucking keep track of his movements, let alone react in time. He falls over again.

Bro kicks him a little in the shin. Not too hard. Just a warning. “Weak. Get up.”

He tries again, but his arms are shaking. His body won’t move. He knows what’s going to come if he opens himself up, but he’s too fucking hurt to keep going.

“I can’t.”

Bro kicks him in the thigh hard enough to bruise. “Get up.”

Dave doesn’t get up. So Bro kicks him again. Stomach. The pain is explosive and completely dead at the same time.

“Really? You’re done fighting? You think you’re fuckin’ done?”

Dave doesn’t respond.

He can’t. Which doesn’t matter. This is what happens. This is the world. This is nature. Survival of the fittest. Bro is fitter, unless Dave can pull himself together. He can’t. This is what he gets.

Bro kicks him. And again. And again.

“Gotta learn your lesson, lil’ man. This is what happens when you stop fighting.”

He seems pissed. Or maybe a little excited. Dave doesn’t want to think about that. ( _he’s happy to do this to me he’s happy to hurt me because he hates me because I’m here and he wishes I wasn’t alive right now and_ ) Bro is hard to read, anyways, and Dave is probably reading too much into the tone of his voice, because fuck knows he doesn’t leave a lot to dissect. Pissed, he’s pissed. Because Dave failed. All he wants is for Dave to stop being such a fucking pussy all the time, because life isn't going to bend over backwards to cater to pussies like him.

More than anything, Dave is scared. It hurts like shit but more than that, he's scared that it won’t end. Maybe this is the time where Bro decides it'd be more fun to just keep going with it. And with every new, dead hit, it's harder to move or think about anything else. This is what he deserves, isn't it? Nature is removing him from the gene pool. He's too weak. Every time he hopes it’ll be the last blow, and flinches when it’s not. The dull stings add up and he’s throbbing all over, and it just doesn’t stop. Until it does.

Bro walks away without a word.

Dave lays on the ground for a while, shaking and trying to breathe. That hurts. Hurts to breathe. But it's over. For now. Probably for today. Probably for a few days. He lifts up his clothes to survey the damage. His skin is broken in a couple places, but he won't need to stitch anything up. He’d bruise and it’d hurt to sit for a while.

He gets up. It hurts to move but it’s not like he can just spend the next week laying down. This is life now. Gotta get used to it.

He doesn’t speak to Bro, and Bro doesn’t speak to him, when he goes into the bathroom to take care of it. He tries not to let it show how fucking scared he is that Bro will decide to teach him again, harder this time. Or that he'll interpret something in his expression as disrespect, or a challenge. He makes himself as small and uninteresting as he can. He tries to keep the shaking down until he closes the bathroom door. Bro really doesn't like the shaking.

He’ll do better next time.


End file.
